


Finding New Friends

by tafizgurl



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-14
Updated: 2010-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-11 20:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tafizgurl/pseuds/tafizgurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holmes relates one of his early cases to test his friendship with Watson.  Inspired by ACD's "The Adventure of the Gloria Scott."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding New Friends

Watson and I had been flatmates for almost five years, and during that time I had grown more and more fond of him, until I finally realized that what had begun as mere companionable cohabitation had become something much more. I had, for the first time in my life, fallen in love.

He, however, gave no indication that he returned my regard, or, indeed, that he was even aware of my inverted nature. Even more disappointing, he gave no indication that he shared such a nature.

I finally decided to settle the question forever; the not knowing was driving me mad. And so, as we sat one winter’s evening on either side of the fire, I began. Watson was always curious concerning my early cases, and an excavation of my desk drawers earlier that day had brought to light the only mementos – save for a scar in a rather embarrassing location – of my first case. And my first lover.

 _"I have some papers here,"_ I said, _"which I really think, Watson, that it would be worth your while to glance over. These are the documents in the extraordinary case of the Gloria Scott, and this is the message which struck Justice of the Peace Trevor dead with horror when he read it."_

I handed him the slip of paper with its inane message about gamekeeper Hudson, fly-paper and hen pheasants, and watched as his expression grew bewildered, and he finally said, _"I cannot see how such a message as this could inspire horror. It seems to me to be rather grotesque than otherwise."_

 _"Very likely. Yet the fact remains that the reader, who was a fine, robust old man, was knocked clean down by it as if it had been the butt end of a pistol."_

 _"You arouse my curiosity,"_ he said _. "But why did you say just now that there were very particular reasons why I should study this case?"_

 _"Because it was the first in which I was ever engaged."_

I had him. 

I gave him an abbreviated version of my relationship with Trevor – the story of the bull terrier amused him, and I noted him staring at my crossed ankles where I now lay sprawled on the settee.  If my plans came to fruition, I’d show him the real location later. Damn mongrel almost gelded me. I then proceeded to my visit to Donnithorpe, and the arrival of the strange Mr. Hudson.

He listened attentively as I told him of my conversations with Mr. Trevor Senior, his agitation at my analysis of him, and the unpleasant arrival of the unsavory sailor, finishing with, _“The whole incident left a most ugly impression upon my mind, and I was not sorry next day to leave Donnithorpe behind me, for I felt that my presence must be a source of embarrassment to my friend.”_

I’m afraid that wasn’t the only thing I felt to be a source of embarrassment to Victor; his father had begun to watch us rather strangely and Victor told me that the old gentleman had unexpectedly come to his rooms one night, just before he intended to leave to join me. “Thank God the man wasn’t five minutes later,” he’d said. “I have no idea how I would have explained that to him.”

I watched Watson’s face, enthralled with my tale, as I progressed through my return to Donnithorpe, Victor’s father’s death, and the strange letter I’d found among his papers. As I approached the end of my tale, I threw one arm across my eyes, and said, _“"That was the narrative which I read that night to young Trevor, and I think, Watson, that under the circumstances it was a dramatic one.”_ I added a well-acted quaver to my voice and continued, _“The good fellow was heart-broken at it”,_ and at the amazing row we’d had the next morning when I suggested contacting the authorities, _“and went out to the Terai tea planting…”_  If he couldn’t glean my meaning from that, he could really be as dense as his own stories made him appear. I finished abruptly with, _“Those are the facts of the case, Doctor, and if they are of any use to your collection, I am sure that they are very heartily at your service.”_

I waited, tense with anticipation. Was he going to understand? How would he react if he did? I heard him rise and move over to the fireplace, take out a cigarette and light it. A whiff of smoke – fine Virginian tobacco – wafted over me, and I inhaled deeply. After a long minute, Watson asked, “Holmes? Was… was Trevor a… very good friend?”

“My first, and quite possibly my best.” I paused for a moment. “Excepting your good self, of course.”

I heard him take another puff. “Holmes?”

Out with it, man! The suspense was killing me. “Yes?”

“Holmes,” he cleared his throat, “I should like to ask you a question, and I am very hesitant to do it. No matter what your answer is, I can see only three potential outcomes of my inquiry. One, you will ask me to kindly forget it ever occurred. Two, you will advise me that my company is no longer welcome, and I should seek new lodgings at my earliest convenience.” He moved quietly – so quietly I almost didn’t hear him - to kneel beside the settee.

“And the third?” I asked, lifting my arm from across my eyes.

 

What happened afterward is far too private a thing for me to write, even for this journal. But needless to say, he found the scar. And, being the conscientious medical man that he is, found it necessary to kiss it better. I certainly had no objection.


End file.
